


Hot For Teacher

by kethni



Series: 5 AUs Kent and Selina Were Friends with Benefits [4]
Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 01:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15377793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: The students are getting on Ben's last nerve, and the staff are even worse.





	Hot For Teacher

He knew something was going on. He fucking knew it. That stuck up, snarky little bitch was gonna be crawling up his butt again over some fucking nonsense. As if wrangling three hundred privileged princesses wasn’t hard enough, all of them “special” and “unique” and deserving every kind of god damn break that kids from normal homes never got.

‘You look like you’re having another heart attack,’ Leigh said.

‘I’m not having another fucking heart attack!’

She didn’t blink. ‘Don’t swear at me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Or yell at me.’

He put his hands on his hips. ‘I said I’m sorry.’

‘I’ll call my union if you do that again.’

He groaned. ‘Yeah. I know. Please don’t call your union. If we have to make another settlement with you I’ll definitely lose my job. Then you’ll end up working for Vice Principal Furlong. You want that?’

Leigh shook her head. ‘Do you want to know when Mrs Meyer arrives?’

‘No. I want nothing to do with it!’ He threw up his hands. ‘Davison called her in. He can deal with her. Where is he?’

She glanced at her watch. ‘He’ll be in Room Epsilon setting up for double statistics.’

He stamped over to the door. ‘Poor f... damn kids. If it’s not bad enough they’ve got him teaching them, he’s teaching statistics and doublee as long.’

Leigh frowned. ‘Mr Cafferty, I found Mr Davison to be a passionate educator.’

‘Yeah, you would.’

***

The problem with Davison, okay the biggest problem from a laundry list, was that he thought he was better than this. With his expensive suits that never had spit up on them like Mr McLintock’s did, or that were just fifteen years out of date like Cafferty’s own. He wasn’t even married, so half the unmarried female staff, the desperate ones, made excuses to talk to him. Cafferty didn’t need the competition, especially single competition, and least of all slightly stand-offish single competition. That was a _challenge_ and there was no shortage of women instantly attracted to that.

Cafferty was a little out of breath when he arrived at Room Epsilon, walking left him breathless more often these days. Not Davison. Oh no. Fucker did exercise for fun.

‘You should sit down,’ Davison said.

‘I feel like shit.’

Davison had his sleeves rolled up. He’d been writing something on the white board.

‘Have some water. Are you sure you should be in work, Ben?’

He gulped the offered water. ‘I don’t need this stress.’

Davison adjusted his already pristine tie. ‘Is there something you want?’

‘What’s the problem with the Meyer kid?’

Dawson’s lips twitched. ‘Catherine?’

‘Yeah, you called the mom in. The dad called to whine about the fees and all the extra activities.’

Dawson frowned. ‘He doesn’t pay for any of those. She pays for everything.’

Ben huffed. ‘Nice if you can swing it that way.’

Davison’s lips twitched. ‘Is that it? I have things to be done before class starts.’

Ben scowled at him. ‘You didn’t answer my fucking question. Why did you call Mommy Meyer in? Every time I see her she busts my fucking nuts.’

Davison looked away. ‘It’s nothing. She’s very... hands-on. She asked for regular discussions about Catherine.’ He went back to the white board. ‘It’s nothing significant or important.’

Ben pushed himself up onto his feet. ‘You’re a terrible liar.’ He poked a thick finger at him. ‘If I hear that you’re doing some whistle-blower bullshit I’m gonna have your ass in a sling. Are we clear?’

‘What?’ Davison demanded. ‘I’m Catherine’s homeroom teacher. She’s had some issues. Why wouldn’t her mother want to monitor the situation?’

Ben scowled. ‘What fucking issues? She’s a god damn damp wash cloth. She had Splett completely speechless about some art project. He could say something nice about a dog turd, but her shit he couldn’t fucking parse.’

Davison ignored this. ‘Her parents’ divorce has been trying. Catherine has been acting out very slightly. It’s not worrying just yet, but it should be observed.’

Ben straightened his tie. ‘The parents got divorced? When did that happen?’

‘During the summer.’

Selina Meyer was a handsome woman and there was money there. She had a mouth on her, but Ben liked a woman who knew her own mind.

Cafferty smoothed down his hair. ‘Is there a stepdad on the scene?’

Davison’s expression was too blankly composed. ‘Catherine hasn’t said so. I believe that Mrs Meyer intends to remain single.’

‘I say that after all of my divorces,’ Cafferty said. ‘And lay off the attitude. She’s a good-looking woman. I can be interested.’

Davison blinked. ‘And do you... Do you imagine she might return your interest?’

‘I won’t know until I try,’ Cafferty said.

Davison was trying not to laugh. Judgemental dick.

‘Well, he said. ‘If that’s everything then I should carry on.’

***

Mr Splett was teaching a class about Jackson Pollock. Ben stared around the room: there was paint on the walls, on the floor, on the ceiling, on the desks, bags, books, and, yes, on the students. There was even a streak of red paint down Splett’s face. Splett had been splatted.

The students took in Cafferty’s expression, went quiet, and immediately began cleaning up.

‘Hello, Mr Cafferty!’ Richard said brightly. ‘Gosh isn’t the exciting.’

‘So is a plane crash,’ Ben said. ‘I’ll be back in twenty-five minutes, if this isn’t cleaned up completely then you’re all in detention!’ He pointed at Splett. ‘Especially you.’

Jesus Christ. Ben plodded along to the next classroom. He didn’t get much choice about “his” staff. He didn’t hire them, and it was almost impossible to fire them. He was real close with McLintock though. It just needed a little more, maybe one more push, and the useless fuck would be out the door.

Political science was hardly a red-hot subject at any school, let alone this one where over-privileged idiots with more entitlement than self-awareness, and it hardly filled McLintock’s time. They had him run the debate club to fill up his schedule and, as his ineptitude and their inability to remove him became obvious, they added chess club, woodworking, and every other random class that nobody else wanted responsibility for. It was supposed to “encourage” him to find work elsewhere but McLintock didn’t get the message. He merely expanded his incompetence into ever expanding arenas.

Cafferty heard the shouting halfway down the corridor. That was fucking McLintock’s class. It had to be. Nobody else had so little control over their class. Even Splett managed better than that. Where Egan used charm and cajoling, Cafferty used rage, Splett used sympathy, and Davison used sheer force of personality, McLintock begged and pleaded fruitlessly.

It was supposed to be debate. Cafferty had no time for the kind of clever-clever point scoring. It was better left to Egan and Brookheimer who seemed to revel in the research and point scoring necessary. McLintock had no idea what constituted a well-reasoned argument. Brookheimer had bitched about it to Cafferty more than once; it was ruining their chances of a good debate team, blah, blah, blah. Davison had outright said it was damaging their reputation. None of them were volunteering to take over of course, and none of them had any idea what to do to get rid of McLintock, although Davison’s suggestion that they apply for jobs on his behalf was creative at least.

This wasn’t a debate, it was a brawl. McLintock was running backwards and forwards like an overexcited puppy. Was he even trying to stop it?

‘What the hell is going on here?’ Cafferty demanded, driving into the mass of children. He yanked the two protagonists apart. ‘You two go and see Mr Furlong.’

‘But –’

‘Now!’ Cafferty spun and pointed randomly at another child. ‘You, go to the teacher’s lounge. Tell whoever answers the door to come here immediately.’

The child was smart enough to scurry off immediately. McLintock was dumb enough to speak up.

‘I was just about to –’

‘When I want you to talk I’ll ask you to,’ Cafferty growled.

ln the sudden silence of the room, the sound of stiletto heels in the hallway was very loud.

‘Oh shit,’ moaned a child.

‘Who said that?’ Cafferty demanded. ‘You’re in detention tonight.’

The door was thrown open and the chastened children rushed back to their seats as a teacher, tall and cold, stalked into the room. The unfortunate who had fetched her, scuttled to her seat. The teacher skewered McLintock took with a look.

‘What are you supposed to be doing?’

‘A debate on free speech,’ he mumbled.

‘How unoriginal.’

Cafferty cleared his throat. ‘You got this Miss Wilson?’

‘I do.’

Cafferty pointed at the door. ‘My office, Mr McLintock.’

***

Cafferty put his feet up on the desk. Miss Brookheimer sprawled back in her chair.

‘I’m not your guidance counsellor,’ she complained.

‘I pay your wages and the little assholes aren’t exactly queued up along your corridor.’ He tapped his feet together. ‘Does Catherine Meyer come to see you?’

Brookheimer gulped coffee. ‘I can’t tell you what we talk about.’

Cafferty rolled his eyes. ‘What’s she like?’

She shrugged. ‘Whining, self-pitying, entitled, wah-wah, woe is me.’

Cafferty clasped his hands over his stomach. ‘She’s a teenager.’

Brookheimer rolled her eyes. ‘They’re all teenagers. She has mommy issues, daddy issues... other issues. But mostly she’s a spoiled yet needy brat.’

‘You tell her that?’

‘Every time she comes in here ugly crying at me,’ Brookheimer said, rolling her eyes. ‘It doesn’t work.’

‘Her mom is coming in this afternoon,’ Cafferty grumbled.

‘To see her or to see Kent?’

Cafferty hesitated. ‘Why would she be coming to see Davison?’

Brookheimer gulped coffee. ‘They’re buddies. He worked in her ex-husband’s company or some shit.’

‘You’re fucking making that up.’

She scowled at him. ‘I’m not responsible for you not knowing what’s going on.’

Cafferty dragged himself to his feet. ‘I’m not gonna get a straight answer out of Davison. What class will the kid be in?’

Brookheimer looked at the schedule pinned to the wall. ‘Gym.’ ‘

‘Great. Half-dressed angry lesbians are my favourite.’

‘If you didn’t say shit like that they wouldn’t be angry.’

He waved a hand dismissively as he opened the door.

‘Hey, if you’re firing Mike then can I take over debate?’

‘Sue,’ he said. ‘Whatever.’

***

Gym. Just the word made his chest clench, or maybe that was just another heart attack. He fucking loathed the squeak of robber soles on the hardwood floor, the weird echoes of voices, and the smell of sweat, but most of all he loathed the memory of lumbering around breathless and sore. One half of the hall was home to the girls: all tiny shots and tight sports tops. If Palmiotti had her druthers they they’d be outside in the chill air. But mommies and daddies got pissy about their cherished angels getting cold or dirty, so they were stuck indoors.

The boys were on the other half of the hall. Davison was running them through basketball drills. Jesus, he was all in yellow and white: tiny shorts, singlet, wristbands, and headbands. Nobody needed to see all that bare flesh.

Cafferty shook his head and looked for Catherine Meyer. She was short, he knew that, with long mousy hair.

‘Hey,’ he said to another girl. ‘Where’s Catherine Meyer?’

‘She’s helping Miss Palmiotti with the equipment,’ the girl said. Then she bent over to tie her lace, flashing pink panties at the world. Cafferty spun away, and the world kept spinning. He fought through, forcing himself to the storage room.

Inside he saw Miss Palmiotti passing the wig on legs that was Catherine Meyer a net. As Palmiotti turned back, Meyer full on leered at her ass.

Cafferty wheezed. Oh Christ. Please let them not be fucking. The scandal would... Oh God...

He fell to his knees, barely aware of the shouts and the pounding feet running towards him.

***

Cafferty stared at the ceiling.

‘Are you fucking joking?’ Vice Principle Furlong demand. ‘What the hell is an anxiety attack? We all get anxious. I wake up every morning fucking screaming!’

‘You’re such a damn drama queen,’ Cafferty said, trying to stand up. ‘Quit yelling at the nurse.’

‘Doctor,’ she said sharply.

“Sure,’ Cafferty said. ‘Am I free to go?’

‘Please do,’ she did.

Furlong contrived to complain all the way back to the school. He’d wasted his afternoon, he was behind with his work, someone else should have come, on and on. What he meant was: I thought I was finally going to get your damn job and I’m pissed that you’re okay. Cafferty looked out the window. He’d find some way to deal with that when he was feeling better. It was too late in the day now. Outside was dark. A gathering mist in the air suggested the temperature was dropping.

A boarding school had sounded good on paper. His work was only a few steps from his home. On nights like these though he felt isolated. Cut off from real life.

As Furlong parked, Cafferty noticed a strange car tucked into a corner. A sporty thing much more stylish than practical.

‘Did Mrs Meyer arrive?’ Cafferty asked.

‘Yeah. She wants to be on the board. I left her with Davison.’ Furlong opened his door. ‘He can blind her with science or math. Some fucking thing.’

He stamped off without waiting for Cafferty. That was just dandy. Cafferty wandered over to the unknown car. The number plate said “5elina” and there was a pair of red, six-inch-high stilettos on the back seat. Nobody on staff could afford a brand-new sports car with all the extras, and none of them were called Selina. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on bit he was going to find out.

It was after six. He heard the pupils in the dining hall as he walked past. There would be a couple staff members on duty, but the rest were either probably in their rooms or en route to the city. Davison’s motorbike was still parked up outside his accommodation, and the lights in the accommodation were all off. Not that Cafferty imagined him roaring down the road with Selina Meyer riding pillion, she wasn’t that much fun. Cafferty had enough trouble believing that Davison rode the thing, never mind anyone else.

Right. Fine. They wanted to play hide and seek? He could play hide and seek.

He checked the homerooms. He checked the teachers’ lounge. He checked Davison’s office. Nothing. He was out of breath and increasingly irritated as he stamped through the dark corridors.

And then he saw a sliver of light where there was no reason to be one. His face set into a furious scowl as he marched towards the distant locker rooms. It was the most distant part of the school from cafeteria and accommodation block. The chance of someone wandering in was incredibly slim. He would have never noticed the light if he hadn’t been looking for it.

He took a moment to catch his breath. Then he edged to the locker room door. It was open a few inches, just far enough to spill light out into the darkness.

Inside a woman, definitely not a girl, was dressed in a cheerleader costume. Davison was dressed in slacks and a polo shirt. He was leaning against a row of lockers watching the woman prancing around.

‘Behave yourself, Miss Meyer,’ Kent said.

‘But that’s no fun,’ she said sashaying to and fro. ‘It’s not in my nature to be a little goody-two-shoes.’ She primped out her hair. ‘Naughty is much more my speed.’

Davison moved closer to her, pulling out a chair from between lockers, and turning it around.

‘Naughty girls get punished,’ he said. He took her wrists in his hand and pulled her closer to him as he sat down.

‘Gosh, Mr Davison, what are you going to do to me?’ She yelped as he pulled her across his lap.

‘I’m going to give you a spanking.’ Kent said, pulling up her skirt and pulling down her panties.

Cafferty took a deep breath.

Meyer’s legs kicked feebly as he pulled back his hand.

‘Oh no...’ she begged. ‘Not that.’

His hand came down sharply against her butt. She squealed, writhing on his lap.

Cafferty pulled away, leaning back against the wall. He heard more sharp slaps, and the sound of squeals turning to moans and gasps. He risked another look.

She was sat on his lap now, facing him. Livid hand marks glowed on her bare ass, along with thin stripes from a belt. She was getting louder and more vigorous, swinging her hips and gripping his shoulders. She threw back her head moaned loudly.

Cafferty turned and skittered away, hunched over like a crab.

‘Hey!’

He turned around. Meyer was stood by the open door.

‘Did ya get bored?’ she asked, stalking towards him. ‘Was me coming not doing it for you?’

‘Madam, you have no right to be here!’ he squeaked.

She flicked his tie. ‘Voyeurism is a crime, Cafferty. Consensual sex, not so much. This is what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna scuttle off with your tiny erection and forget this ever happened. You’re not gonna tell people. You’re not gonna discipline Kent.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Cafferty asked.

She pushed her hair back. ‘Oh fuck no. You’re an educator. You should know better than that. A threat would be, “hey, asshole, don’t tell anyone or I’ll ruin your career.” Hear the difference there?’

He glanced past her to the locker room. ‘Kent’s got nothing to say about this, huh?’

She poked his chest. ‘I’ve known him a long time. He knows when to get the fuck out of my way. Like right now. Don’t worry, he won’t say anything to you so long as you don’t say anything to him. We good?’

The poke turned into an outstretched hand.

‘Yeah,’ Cafferty said. ‘We’re good.’

‘Great. I’ll see at the next meeting with the board of governors.’

The End


End file.
